


This Is My Spot (Why Are You Here)

by X_The_Unicorn



Series: MCYT classical musicians au [5]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (techno doesn't admit it tho), First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, by acting like they're rivals, i really don't know how to tag this, just the usual techno and dream dynamic yk, they're just being friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27831637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/X_The_Unicorn/pseuds/X_The_Unicorn
Summary: The lawn was unpathed, his sneakers sinking into the soft earth, the unmowed grass tickling his ankles. As he was walking towards the supposedly desolated spot, however, he heard a violin coming from exactly where he wanted to go.Someone found his spot. Frick.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade, i'll put you in The Pit with Technoblade if you ship them irl romantically, no - Relationship
Series: MCYT classical musicians au [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931692
Comments: 6
Kudos: 103





	This Is My Spot (Why Are You Here)

**Author's Note:**

> *doesn't write for a whole month*
> 
> *inspiration returns*
> 
> *introduces new character*
> 
> I know I know, all the hottest fics are on the Dream SMP plot (that is 80% angst) at the moment, so allow me to interrupt your browsing with a bit of au heheh
> 
> The author has been sobbing over Ghostbur and Fundy for a few days they have no idea how they actually managed to write this but anyways
> 
> Enjoy!

You’d expect a music university to have music flowing out of every nook and cranny of the campus building. There would be gardens well tended to, with cute wooden benches amist the luscious bushes, bees and butterflies hovering near the blooming flowers, birds singing in harmony with the music that seem to be everywhere.

That sounded like something right out of a dream, Dream thought bitterly, then bit back an unwilling chuckle when he realised the unconscious wordplay. The violin case slung over his back felt heavy like a rock under the sun, sticking uncomfortably to the back of his hoodie which was already soaked with sweat. He was thankful for the blessing that came in the presence of the sun, given that it’s already late November and the sun is not visible every day this late into the year.

The place he was looking for was a quiet, unoccupied and preferrably isolated place. He had been kicked out of the practice rooms after a mere two-hour session there- apparently the piano majors have their finals coming up and everyone wanted a last minute practice. His instrument is portable, so he had to give his practice room up for some other piano student he wasn’t keen to know the identity of. That brought him to where he was at the moment, somewhere at the back of a secluded campus building.

There wasn’t any benches to put his stuff down, but there was an open corridor that was roofed, so that’s a starter. Dream dived into the shelter, glad to finally be out of the sun. The cemented ground was slightly dusty but he couldn’t bother, plopping down and wiping sweat off his forehead. He took a brief moment to catch his breath before jumping into motion again to set up his music stand and the clips to hold his sheet music.

(He remembered George telling him a horror story where he decided to play in the open without his clips and the sheet music was blown away by a strong gust of wind right into the drains nearby. He shuddered: that sounded like a nightmare.)

After the short preparations, he started practising, quickly losing himself in the music.

Completely unaware of footsteps approaching.

* * *

Despite graduating almost a year ago, Technoblade preferred practising in his alma mater, the place he spent a way shorter time than he wished to be in. Less judging, he claimed, despite the looks from his housemates. He had a spot in the campus, away from everyone, where he could spend hours and hours playing away without curious people staring at him like he was the eighth (or ninth?) wonder of the world.

The lawn was unpathed, his sneakers sinking into the soft earth, the unmowed grass tickling his ankles. As he was walking towards the supposedly desolated spot, however, he heard a violin coming from exactly where he wanted to go.

Someone found his spot. Frick.

Technoblade told himself that he couldn’t bother to care. Just turn around, and leave, go back to the house where he was fairly sure that no one was in at the moment, he could practice there alright. Even if his housemates were there, they would not judge him at all. He would even say they give pretty good advice for the standards of a non classical musician. But something was tingling under his skin, and he kept walking. The music, a piece that he recognised, became clearer when he came closer. That person was definitely where he wanted to be, and a part of himself who was expecting the music to come from the other side of the building or even inside the building died. Ugh. People.

How should he greet them? Does he ask them to leave politely, or intimidate them to give them trauma, or strike up a conversation? He decided that he wasn’t in the mood to do small talk, so he chose the second option. It was probably some scrawny new intake kid who wanted to practice secretly before showing off in class. Maybe he could directly start playing and make them stop and run off because they would be in presence of a god (he knew his playing could do that and he wasn’t exaggerating) that they could not dream to catch up with.

He kept walking until the player came into view.

It wasn’t who he expected to see, not that he was expecting someone like that anyway. The boy looked about his age, maybe a bit younger, wearing a hideous lime green hoodie in this unorthodoxedly hot weather. His eyes were completely focused on the sheet music in front of him, brows furrowed in concentration. He didn’t even notice Techno there.

What caught his attention more was how he was playing the piece. Techno noted, with slight admiration, that the musical expression of the piece was quite well done. And even though if he wanted to nitpick he could still criticise it for a few minutes, he had to admit that the person probably was better than most of the people he heard or even played with before.

He cleared his throat, then snorted in amusement when the person startled, the bow sliding off with a squeak. The person quickly located him, and Techno narrowed his eyes, trying to give off a scary vibe (not that he had to try, anyway). But instead of getting scared like most people would at this point, the green boy (his eyes were green too, what the heck, is being green a personality now) merely stared back at him, an eyebrow raised.

The intimidation didn’t work. Frick. Now he had to do the next thing on his mind.

“Why are you at my spot?” Techno asked, internally wincing at the way his voice cracked at the end of the question.

“I didn’t know it’s your spot.” The green boy replied, skeptical evident in his voice, but didn’t seem to back down any bit. “It’s not every day I see a person with pink hair at the corner of campus.”

Ah. Pink hair. That’s probably why people were weirded out by him everywhere he go around. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, voice tight. The green boy still had his violin perched on his shoulder, not intention to leave at all. He winced internally again, he really didn’t want to say it out loud.

“Now that you know it’s my spot,” he started, “would you mind to leave?”

“There isn’t a sign with your name here, right?” The green boy grinned, “and I was here first today. Shouldn’t you be the one to leave instead?”

Techno was really starting to find him irritating. He crossed his arms, right foot tapping the floor impatiently. He could just chase the boy away and gain an enemy (which he won’t even see often anyway), or there was something else he could do to evict him from his spot peacefully. It’s his spot for heaven’s sake!

“Or,” the green boy interrupted his racing thoughts. “We could share this place.”

“How?” Techno found himself asking. Two violinists sharing a practice space is never a good idea if they are not practising a duet. This has been the reason he tried to look for a secluded space in first place.

“I don’t feel like telling you.” The green boy gave him a smirk, and turned back to his music sheets again. Notes filled the air again, as Techno’s heart filled with annoyance. And anger.

And… amusement?

It’s been a while since someone else other than his housemates and family talked to him without any fear in their voice. This green boy has an interesting character, he thought. But practice couldn’t wait… or could it?

So be it. He told himself, and went to the other side of the sheltered pavement. He made quick preparations (and no warmups, warmups are only for the weak) and listened to the music, mind racing at miles per second. A plan came up in his mind, and he smiled to himself before lifting his bow.

The cut off of a person’s playing would be considered incredibly rude especially when it’s the first time they meet each other, but Techno somehow knew that the green boy wouldn’t mind a single bit. It was a completely different piece from what the green boy was playing, but the first few measures actually sounded like they were meant to be played together?

The green boy didn’t notice that at first as well, but when he did, he turned slightly towards Techno, still not stopping. Techno shot him a short lift of one corner of his lip and deliberately played louder than he was supposed to be. However, the green boy didn’t hesitate for long before switching to another piece, still somehow sounding harmonious with each other. He also slightly raised his volume, giving him a challenging look.

Two can play this game, Techno decided, pausing momentarily to let the green boy take the imaginary spotlight, while racking through his brain for another different piece. Just in time for it, he played a note with him in unison before launching into his piece, the short energetic notes breaking the long sustained note the green boy was playing. This time, the other recognised this tune as well, and surprisingly started to play accompaniment to him. He felt a genuine smile threatening to break his cold façade, but suppressed it down for the sake of his pride.

The moment didn’t last long as the green boy switched to a new piece again, playing rapid double stops that had Techno secretly impressed. He decided to switch to accompaniment, waiting for the new piece that was already in his mind to come into play at the right time. In contrast with his cold exterior, the green boy was beaming, eyes sparking with excitement as the piece shifted once again, the tempo going faster and faster as the music swelled under the bright afternoon sun.

They played through pieces and bits of different concertos, occasionally pausing to let each other do a solo, cutting each other off with another similar sounding yet different piece from another composer. Though Techno didn’t show it (he thought he didn’t), he genuinely enjoyed the back and forth with the green boy. Though it was the first time they met, it felt like they were already well acquainted. A voice at the back of his mind nagged at him that this was the boy who stole his spot, but in the moment he couldn’t seem to care. He was actually having fun playing—and he wasn’t even playing alone!

The green boy, on the other hand, was more expressive with his movements. He was swinging slightly to the music, bouncing a bit on his heels, and Techno could pinpoint the moment he figured out which piece to play next—his smile became slightly bigger whenever he did. It might have to do with the different instruments, he supposed, but the green boy’s pieces of choice often sounded brighter and happier than his pieces. He was, quite literally, a green ball of energy. 

They didn’t know how to end the impromptu duet, but they could both tell it was coming to an end. They had given up on trying to play over each other, instead settling on a common dynamic where both violins could be heard clearly. Techno was surprised that they were still playing different pieces, because these two pieces mingled with each other seamlessly, almost as if they were the same piece after all. (It was totally not because of the people playing it, his mind suggested.) 

Who knows Tchaikovsky and Sibelius mixed together so well?

The last note was drew out in unison, the green boy finishing slightly earlier than Techno, bringing him back to reality that yes, he just met this person and played a whole duet with him and no, he was still not over the fact that the green boy took his spot. However, he could only watch as the green boy let out a painful sounding wheeze, unconcealed glee on his face. “That was so fun!” He exclaimed over wheezy laughter, doubled over, and Techno let a small smile slide.

“Doesn’t mean you can claim my spot though,” he deadpanned, trying (and failing) to keep the mirth out of his voice.

“Oh, how about another one?” The green boy immediately straightened up, a mischievous glint in his voice. “Bach. D Minor. You know which one.”

“No I don’t.”

(He did, and when he started playing, the green boy grinned and did a mock salute with his bow before he joined in. Maybe they share at least one brain cell.)

Now that they weren’t constantly trying to outplay each other, Techno took this liberty to really observe the green boy’s playing. He could tell that he’s a very emotive person, as contradicted from his straight tactical playing that focused on the techniques more than the emotions. Both are good, different but good. The green boy is really skilled, and even Techno could respect that.

The piece was over way too soon. When the duo snapped back to reality, it was already late afternoon, and the sun had long lost its blazing heat, leaving its fiery scarlet remnants at the horizon in the distance. An early night breeze swiped across their faces, one rosy with excitement, one pale with poorly held back joy.

“This spot is still mine, you know right?”

“Well, we can split the days we use it. Remember to carve your name into the pavement if you want to claim this place.”

“I’m not vandalising campus property, excuse you.”

“…I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. My name is Dream, second year majoring violin. Nice to meet you!”

“I’m not interested. And it’s not nice to meet you.”

“Aww, don’t be like that!”

“I’m always like that, first time meeting me?”

“Well yes it’s the first time—”

“Crap.”

“…the name’s Technoblade.”

**Author's Note:**

> Extra:
> 
> “How have I never seen you here before?”
> 
> “I don’t have to tell you.”
> 
> “Why are you like this?”
> 
> “I don’t entertain over inquisitive kids like you.”
> 
> “I’m not a kid though, I’m 21 years old!”
> 
> “So am I.”
> 
> “Wait. WHAT? Why have I never seen you on campus before?”
> 
> “Again, none of your business.”
> 
> ........................
> 
> Reference:
> 
> [Concerto Battle](https://youtu.be/XB4c97p02cE) by TwoSetViolin
> 
> Enters Technoblade.
> 
> With Technoblade comes rivalry and shenanigans, but I'm aware that there's another MCYT conservatory au going on on ao3 and here's a disclaimer: I haven't read that au yet (in case I accidentally used the same plot points as them-- trust me it happens pretty often, the accidental plagiarism, and I do NOT want that to happen. I do want to read it some time later though), so if something ends up similar it's just a coincidence! 
> 
> Small backstory for instrument assigning happening back in September: I assigned the violin to Techno because I want Dream and Techno to be rivals, then just a few days after that I found out that Techno ACTUALLY PLAYS THE VIOLIN IRL and the first thing I did when I found out was screaming into my pillow for a full minute lmao. The au literally wrote itself for me.
> 
> I love writing from Techno's view because his character rambles, not unlike me. I ramble. And overshare. As clearly seen in this end note. I haven't finished talking yet, please bear with me for a bit. I pretty much suck at characterisation, which means my characters all have similar personalities, unable to distinguish from each other. I'm working on that. Hopefully I will improve. 
> 
> This has been very fun to write. I love the Concerto Battle video and have watched it for more than 10 times. I feel like I kinda didn't execute it good, because there were so many emotions that I couldn't describe well when I watched that video. I was almost hesitant to put the Tchaikovsky and Sibelius sentence in the work because I know Tchaikovsky and Sibelius are kind of Eddy's and Brett's thing (btw if you haven't subscribe to TwoSetViolin please do, Brett is going to play Sibelius for 3M subs) and I'm not sure if putting that line in will ruin the significance of the pieces and TwoSet (I believe it won't so I put it in anyway.
> 
> With new character comes even more new characters, and I don't really know how my mind works but I'm really excited for what I'll do with more new characters.
> 
> Also I do want to write for Dream SMP plot but the angst is killing me (/pos) and I need to be in a specific headspace to be able to write good angst and I don't think I want to be in that headspace at the moment. I have a few plot bunnies popping up and I hope I can write them lmao
> 
> That's actually enough ranting. I'm sorry this is so long. Thank you for reading <3


End file.
